(no subject)
MOAR Torrin!stuff. I'm sorry! When the muse hits a certain way, I gotta hit back!
Title: Just Like You: LBOC
Pairing: C/Z, Torrin/?
Rating: Very-light R
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Society gets it wrong, as usual.
Casey's love for cooking could almost be brought down to nothing when it came to getting the tools; grocery-shopping, basically, which was why Zeke had left work early to get a serious, expensive trip in. It was an even trade, Zeke actually liking the chore while Casey made magic with what he'd bring home. The prime rib hadn't been on sale in the slightest, but despite Zeke's sticking to a list, it wasn't a crime, picking up the occasional treat. 'You got lobster four days ago, you beast,' he teased himself in his mind, even smirking as he carried the bags from the trunk to the kitchen. It was a sure bet that Casey would be exhausted after today, but he never complained when it came to rolling up his sleeves and diving into dinnertime. That was the kind of man Zeke had married, and fuck the lot who missed their chance.
On Zeke's third and final trek outside, he smiled in seeing Casey pull into the drive. He gave Zeke a tiny wave as he parked behind the Mustang. Zeke stayed by the opened trunk, grinning wider when Torrin stepped out. 'Please have had a good time, PLEASE have had a good time...' his thoughts chanted as he asked, “How was your day, kiddo?”
“It was awesome,” Torrin replied. He even had a hop-skip in his step as he approached. “Dad's got the best job ever.”
Zeke raised his eyebrows. Hadn't this kid been bummed-out when Zeke had told him that HIS work didn't allow the 'Bring Your Kid to Work Day' tradition? “But going to DAD'S work... it'd be just like going to school,” Torrin had lamented two weeks before, thankfully while Casey had been out at the mall to pick up a new suit he'd ordered. If he'd heard their son's whining and moaning about not wanting to go see what Casey did all day because it'd be 'so, soooo boring!', he'd have needed therapy...
But there Torrin was, a huge smile plastered on his face as he grabbed one of the last three bags. “Thanks, buddy,” Zeke said as Casey joined them, leaned in for a quick peck then took a bag as well.
“You went all-out, huh?” Casey asked.
“The cupboards looked sad,” Zeke replied.
Torrin went first, but looked distracted; he even almost tripped on the small step leading in when he turned his head to ask, “Dad said I could go to Mike's to hang out if you said 'yes' too... his parents said I could stay for dinner. Can I?”
“Oh. Well, sure, it's Friday,” Zeke replied. He almost said, 'But we're having steak?' but stopped when he thought of how he and Casey could have a hearty feast, splitting the third steak between them instead of letting the kid have it.
That kid had been a blur once inside; the bag of vegetables he'd brought in was all but thrown on the counter and he'd run upstairs, back down in a flash wearing cut-off shorts and plain white t-shirt instead of the nice khakis and black button-down he'd put on for the special day. “Bye! Thanks Dads... and thanks, Dad, I had a LOT of fun!” Torrin practically cheered on his way to the back door.
“Bye, Tory,” Zeke and Casey called in unison. Zeke looked through the window over the sink at the boy, who zoomed to the garage, hopped on his BMX and tore off down the drive to the sidewalk. With a widening smile, Zeke turned to Casey who was in the pantry, putting boxed items away. “So he DID have a good time, huh?”
“Oh, yea. Yea,” Casey said in a wry, sarcastic tone.
“Did he?”
“Mmhmm.”
Zeke cocked an eyebrow and stocked the fridge, slowly. “What's up?” he asked after a long pause.
Casey stopped, sighed and turned to lean on the doorway. Arms crossed over his chest, he asked, “Warmest day since September, wouldn't you say? Especially for the middle of April?”
“Um... yea?” Zeke said. “What, did you take class outside to the courtyard?”
“No, and I wish we HADN'T ventured outside at any point...” Casey paused to rub his eyes and shake his head. “In a way, it's a little reassuring...”
“I don't speak 'Cryptic Riddles', can we get back to English, please?”
“What's reassuring is that all the gay-haters are wrong; the whole 'two fags RAISE a fag' urban myth was proved wrong today.”
It now dawned on Zeke: an eleven-year old boy going to a college campus on a beautiful, almost-eighty-degree day... “Oh, no. Ohhh no...” Zeke said through puffed-out chuckles.
“Oh, YES, Zeke. Yes,” Casey said.
“C'mon, I gotta know-know every fucking gory detail. Give 'em.”
Though Casey groaned, it was done with a smirk. He moved onto the next bag, putting things away with a strange, dramatic flourish. “Well-l-l... first of all, don't think I didn't know Tory would've rather liked going with YOU to... blow shit up in the lab or something. He was all shrugs and saying bland 'okay's every time I went over what we'd be doing.”
“Hey, he's just...” Zeke started, but Casey lifted the hand holding a box of rice up to shush him.
“Anyway, instead of stopping by Dunks like I usually do, I figured we'd go to the commons for breakfast, let him see a slice of 'college life'. That was the first thing he got into; can't beat the breakfast buffet set-up we got,” Casey said. “I was so into telling him about how my classes went and how I'd try not to be embarrass him, I didn't notice how wide-eyed and jaw-droppy he was getting. When I had to say, 'Does that sound good, Tory?' two times then just, 'Hey, Tory? Hello?' I started looking around to see what he was staring at.”
“Oh god...” Zeke had to lean back and hold his face in his hands as Casey folded up the emptied canvas bag and put it on the chair next to the door in a slap.
“Has he ever seen a pair of tits before in his life? I'm kinda serious, it's like he JUST discovered them.”
“Well yea, but not at HIS school.”
“No, but-good god, they were everywhere. Girls and their tits, every nipple threatening to expose themselves with how small and tight every tank-top, sundress and low-necked shirt was. I asked if he wanted seconds, and it somehow got through, he nodded... so we head back up to the line,” Casey explained. “This guy and his girlfriend were ahead of us. This poor chick's carrying BOTH of their breakfasts while he's blabbing on the phone, right? So at the register where she's getting their meal-cards checked, her wallet falls out of her purse. Her hands are full and she's looking from the thing to Captain Cell-Yell, over and over... then our fine, young gentleman practically dives head-first to snag it and hand it over to her. 'Oh, thank you honey! You're so sweet!' then pats his head. Her thin white tee and lacy black bra underneath's mere inches away from our pervert's face the whole time.”
“O-Oh, shit...” Zeke said.
“How she didn't notice his dumb grin and eyes attaching themselves to her chest... anyway...” Casey moved on to the cupboards above the microwave as he continued, “It's not much different in the lecture room. Torrin had said 'doesn't matter' when I asked him where he wanted to sit, so I'd told him he'd be up in the front row. Well, I get more guys sitting there, and when the room starts filling up, the kid's scanning the entire place... then yup, he heads up four rows and to the left. That's where a few of my girls who should be working for Victoria's Secret instead of taking up an art major sit. Oh god, Zeke... I had to run over and make hasty explanations as to WHY this fifth grader was hanging around, but he'd already intro'ed himself.”
“Shit, that's bold. He'd told me that he'd hide in a closet during your class or something...”
“Oh nooo, Zeke, no closets-literally or figuratively.”
“So what'd our lil' letch do?”
“He behaved... sort of. I told the class about the 'bring your spawn' shit going on, and they're all nice kids. Gail and Tina, the girls with him, oh were they fawning all over him,” Casey said. “Right in the middle of taking them through chapter fourteen, I see Torrin mumbling to Tina... she moves her book a little closer and points to a few things. And there's Tory, leeeeaning-in. Think he's looking at the Gustav Klimt examples she's showing him? Bullshit. He was all-about what her spaghetti-strapped number couldn't hide.”
Zeke had to sit down before he fell down. “She didn't n-notice??”
“I THINK she did, actually. I was ready to interrupt the lesson and yell, 'Leave my student's tits alone, young man!' but saw Tina giving Gail these super-funny looks whenever Tory's eyes would travel south. Gail had her hand over her mouth and was shaking...” Casey shook his head some more, face going pink-but still smiling. “I mean, okay, he wasn't getting grabby or actually being rude or disgusting about it. And he IS only eleven. But it's like... he knows he can get away with shit because he's 'just a kid'.”
“This is awesome...”
“Sure it is, to YOU.”
“Oh, give me a break, you're fuckin' enjoying this storytelling,” Zeke said; Casey's face went even redder, making Zeke grin and twirl his hand around. “Proceed.”
“Wonder where he gets this...” Casey said, giving Zeke a light punch to the shoulder as he passed by on his way to the other cupboard to finish the job. “SO. He played musical chairs for the next three classes, always choosing the spots where his 'preferences' are seated. From what I've gleaned in this sudden social-experiment thrown at me from outta NO-where, he's acquired a taste for olive-skinned, tight-bodied beauties who wear purple, white and-or pink sundresses. I'm planning on opening classes tomorrow with a heartfelt apology to all the poor young women who had to put up with the leer-fest.”
“Their safe-haven, having a gay professor in their class schedule, destroyed...” Zeke remarked, chuckling like a loon.
“It wasn't... something from a Porky's script. Still. By the time lunch showed-up, I was ready to cancel my last two classes. I figured taking lunch outside for some fresh air would do us some good.” Casey's expression darkened, lips going tight a moment before going on to say, “We would've been safer, eating in the caf. Much, much safer. Instead, I get us some burgers, fries, brownies and sodas and lead our big horny hormone outside to a scene MTV would've loved to film for a 'Spring Break' special.”
“Oh FUCK!” Zeke hooted and began clapping, almost drowning out Casey's continuing the story.
“It was warm, yes, but why girls think 'Bikini time!' the second the mercury creeps past seventy-five, the fuck!” Casey laced his fingers tight over his head, groaning and laughing at the same time. “The other professors, the supposed fine professionals supplying today's youth with education? Fuck that, they sneak cock-grabs under their desks in a desperate attempt to 'tame the beast' this time of year. And there I am, leading Torrin around to find a shady spot where you're not tasting suntan lotion while you EAT... Zeke. You DID notice the lunch he had all over him, right?”
“Hah, no??”
“Thank god we didn't go with the beige shirt my mom gave him. But the khakis are gonna need some stain-stick action.”
“Along with his sheets tonight...”
Casey grimaced. “Seriously... globs of ketchup and mustard kept dropping on his clothes, shoes, the grass, and like he cares. But that's not even the worst part... the worst came when he sees these girls in dresses, tube tops and swimwear taking pics of each other. His jaw drops and he turns to me... 'Dad, I gotta take pictures for my report!'”
“Oh. Oh,” Zeke uttered. Casey nodded slowly.
“Before he can grab my iPhone from my bag and rush off to the nearest episode of 'Girls Gone Wild', I tell him that no pics are taken without consent. He nods, the stupidest fucking smile I have ever seen on his face...” Casey sat in the chair across from Zeke's and he let out a big, deep sigh. “...Thankfully, he probably knew I'd caught on to his game and he chose spots at the fountain, statues and some nice guys playing hacky-sack. They even let him join 'em for a couple rounds. But the majority? Yea, it's all curvy-cuties, with him smack-dab in the middle. He even got ONE girl, another Beyonce-lookalike to sit next to him with her arm across his shoulders... while he gives the cam a thumbs-up.”
It was all-out clapping now; how could Zeke not be proud of his son's 'Go Get 'Em!' attitude? As long as he didn't get himself slapped in the face and his wrists in security-guard cuffs, what was the issue? “All the single ladies, all the single ladies...” Zeke trilled in a high-pitched voice. Apparently, Casey couldn't help from snorting and chortling at that.
“Jesus, Zeke. Seriously. Every female student at my school deserves a Purple Heart for this shit,” Casey said past his chuckle fit. “I'm not a praying man, but SOME-one was watching out for me when I ran into Sharon, who was all-too-happy to take him off my hands and show Tory around her job at the library and other spots around campus while I got through the rest of the day. For the record, Sharon's Polish, wears lots of beige and prefers pastry over a supermodel's diet.”
“Eh, that kid'll expand his horizons, I'm sure,” Zeke said. He lit a cigarette and let out his first drag slowly. “Wow. I guess girls aren't 'icky' anymore.”
“The ones at Norwich Elementary are. On the way home, I saw him counting out fingers; I asked him what he was doing, and he said, 'I only have seven years before I go to college! Or maybe I can skip a grade if I try hard enough!'”
More laughter ensued, Casey joining right along. After recovering (as best he could, anyway) Zeke held his hand out. “Okay, hand over your iCrap, I gotta see these pics.”
“'K.” Casey reached into his pockets, felt around then got up to get his bag from the counter. Zeke watched on as the man rifled around in it, muttering things under his breath. He stopped suddenly and gasped. “Aw crap, Tory still has it!”
~*~
“Sorry, Dad... I must've forgot!” Torrin said into the phone... his father's phone. He gave Mike, who was biting his knuckle and shaking a look that said, 'Shut up!' “I didn't know I had it 'til you called.”
“Ugh, well-whatever, it's not a big deal. Just shut it off until I get it back, I'm too tired to drive over to Mike's to get it. Okay? And if you forget and it rings, do NOT pick it up,” Casey instructed.
“Sure. Sorry, 'didn't mean it,” Torrin said-or lied, outright. Who was he hurting? No one at all. After getting a fatherly and tired, Okay, be good, love you, home by eight-thirty, Torrin said, “Love you too,” and hung up.
“Dude, you're such a liar!” Mike exploded once it was safe.
“I KINDA forgot... kinda,” Torrin replied as he tapped the screen to return to the 'Pictures' folder.
Mike groaned and sank further into his beanbag chair. “How do YOU get to hang out with hot college babes while I had to spend the whole damned day with my MOM at her stupid hair salon? All I got to see was a bunch of really old ladies who kept calling me 'sweetie-pie' and stuff. That's so friggin' unfair.”
“Hey, man, it's not my fault. Anyway, they gave you a few bucks when they'd tip your mom.”
“Fine, wanna trade next time??”
“Hells no.” A smile spread over Torrin's face as he held the phone up to show Mike his favorite shot. “Now this chick was fiiiine.”
“Dang, she looks just like Beyonce!”
“I know, right?”
~*~
Title: Just Like You: LBOC
Pairing: C/Z, Torrin/?
Rating: Very-light R
Disclaimer: Don't own!
Synopsis: Society gets it wrong, as usual.
Casey's love for cooking could almost be brought down to nothing when it came to getting the tools; grocery-shopping, basically, which was why Zeke had left work early to get a serious, expensive trip in. It was an even trade, Zeke actually liking the chore while Casey made magic with what he'd bring home. The prime rib hadn't been on sale in the slightest, but despite Zeke's sticking to a list, it wasn't a crime, picking up the occasional treat. 'You got lobster four days ago, you beast,' he teased himself in his mind, even smirking as he carried the bags from the trunk to the kitchen. It was a sure bet that Casey would be exhausted after today, but he never complained when it came to rolling up his sleeves and diving into dinnertime. That was the kind of man Zeke had married, and fuck the lot who missed their chance.
On Zeke's third and final trek outside, he smiled in seeing Casey pull into the drive. He gave Zeke a tiny wave as he parked behind the Mustang. Zeke stayed by the opened trunk, grinning wider when Torrin stepped out. 'Please have had a good time, PLEASE have had a good time...' his thoughts chanted as he asked, “How was your day, kiddo?”
“It was awesome,” Torrin replied. He even had a hop-skip in his step as he approached. “Dad's got the best job ever.”
Zeke raised his eyebrows. Hadn't this kid been bummed-out when Zeke had told him that HIS work didn't allow the 'Bring Your Kid to Work Day' tradition? “But going to DAD'S work... it'd be just like going to school,” Torrin had lamented two weeks before, thankfully while Casey had been out at the mall to pick up a new suit he'd ordered. If he'd heard their son's whining and moaning about not wanting to go see what Casey did all day because it'd be 'so, soooo boring!', he'd have needed therapy...
But there Torrin was, a huge smile plastered on his face as he grabbed one of the last three bags. “Thanks, buddy,” Zeke said as Casey joined them, leaned in for a quick peck then took a bag as well.
“You went all-out, huh?” Casey asked.
“The cupboards looked sad,” Zeke replied.
Torrin went first, but looked distracted; he even almost tripped on the small step leading in when he turned his head to ask, “Dad said I could go to Mike's to hang out if you said 'yes' too... his parents said I could stay for dinner. Can I?”
“Oh. Well, sure, it's Friday,” Zeke replied. He almost said, 'But we're having steak?' but stopped when he thought of how he and Casey could have a hearty feast, splitting the third steak between them instead of letting the kid have it.
That kid had been a blur once inside; the bag of vegetables he'd brought in was all but thrown on the counter and he'd run upstairs, back down in a flash wearing cut-off shorts and plain white t-shirt instead of the nice khakis and black button-down he'd put on for the special day. “Bye! Thanks Dads... and thanks, Dad, I had a LOT of fun!” Torrin practically cheered on his way to the back door.
“Bye, Tory,” Zeke and Casey called in unison. Zeke looked through the window over the sink at the boy, who zoomed to the garage, hopped on his BMX and tore off down the drive to the sidewalk. With a widening smile, Zeke turned to Casey who was in the pantry, putting boxed items away. “So he DID have a good time, huh?”
“Oh, yea. Yea,” Casey said in a wry, sarcastic tone.
“Did he?”
“Mmhmm.”
Zeke cocked an eyebrow and stocked the fridge, slowly. “What's up?” he asked after a long pause.
Casey stopped, sighed and turned to lean on the doorway. Arms crossed over his chest, he asked, “Warmest day since September, wouldn't you say? Especially for the middle of April?”
“Um... yea?” Zeke said. “What, did you take class outside to the courtyard?”
“No, and I wish we HADN'T ventured outside at any point...” Casey paused to rub his eyes and shake his head. “In a way, it's a little reassuring...”
“I don't speak 'Cryptic Riddles', can we get back to English, please?”
“What's reassuring is that all the gay-haters are wrong; the whole 'two fags RAISE a fag' urban myth was proved wrong today.”
It now dawned on Zeke: an eleven-year old boy going to a college campus on a beautiful, almost-eighty-degree day... “Oh, no. Ohhh no...” Zeke said through puffed-out chuckles.
“Oh, YES, Zeke. Yes,” Casey said.
“C'mon, I gotta know-know every fucking gory detail. Give 'em.”
Though Casey groaned, it was done with a smirk. He moved onto the next bag, putting things away with a strange, dramatic flourish. “Well-l-l... first of all, don't think I didn't know Tory would've rather liked going with YOU to... blow shit up in the lab or something. He was all shrugs and saying bland 'okay's every time I went over what we'd be doing.”
“Hey, he's just...” Zeke started, but Casey lifted the hand holding a box of rice up to shush him.
“Anyway, instead of stopping by Dunks like I usually do, I figured we'd go to the commons for breakfast, let him see a slice of 'college life'. That was the first thing he got into; can't beat the breakfast buffet set-up we got,” Casey said. “I was so into telling him about how my classes went and how I'd try not to be embarrass him, I didn't notice how wide-eyed and jaw-droppy he was getting. When I had to say, 'Does that sound good, Tory?' two times then just, 'Hey, Tory? Hello?' I started looking around to see what he was staring at.”
“Oh god...” Zeke had to lean back and hold his face in his hands as Casey folded up the emptied canvas bag and put it on the chair next to the door in a slap.
“Has he ever seen a pair of tits before in his life? I'm kinda serious, it's like he JUST discovered them.”
“Well yea, but not at HIS school.”
“No, but-good god, they were everywhere. Girls and their tits, every nipple threatening to expose themselves with how small and tight every tank-top, sundress and low-necked shirt was. I asked if he wanted seconds, and it somehow got through, he nodded... so we head back up to the line,” Casey explained. “This guy and his girlfriend were ahead of us. This poor chick's carrying BOTH of their breakfasts while he's blabbing on the phone, right? So at the register where she's getting their meal-cards checked, her wallet falls out of her purse. Her hands are full and she's looking from the thing to Captain Cell-Yell, over and over... then our fine, young gentleman practically dives head-first to snag it and hand it over to her. 'Oh, thank you honey! You're so sweet!' then pats his head. Her thin white tee and lacy black bra underneath's mere inches away from our pervert's face the whole time.”
“O-Oh, shit...” Zeke said.
“How she didn't notice his dumb grin and eyes attaching themselves to her chest... anyway...” Casey moved on to the cupboards above the microwave as he continued, “It's not much different in the lecture room. Torrin had said 'doesn't matter' when I asked him where he wanted to sit, so I'd told him he'd be up in the front row. Well, I get more guys sitting there, and when the room starts filling up, the kid's scanning the entire place... then yup, he heads up four rows and to the left. That's where a few of my girls who should be working for Victoria's Secret instead of taking up an art major sit. Oh god, Zeke... I had to run over and make hasty explanations as to WHY this fifth grader was hanging around, but he'd already intro'ed himself.”
“Shit, that's bold. He'd told me that he'd hide in a closet during your class or something...”
“Oh nooo, Zeke, no closets-literally or figuratively.”
“So what'd our lil' letch do?”
“He behaved... sort of. I told the class about the 'bring your spawn' shit going on, and they're all nice kids. Gail and Tina, the girls with him, oh were they fawning all over him,” Casey said. “Right in the middle of taking them through chapter fourteen, I see Torrin mumbling to Tina... she moves her book a little closer and points to a few things. And there's Tory, leeeeaning-in. Think he's looking at the Gustav Klimt examples she's showing him? Bullshit. He was all-about what her spaghetti-strapped number couldn't hide.”
Zeke had to sit down before he fell down. “She didn't n-notice??”
“I THINK she did, actually. I was ready to interrupt the lesson and yell, 'Leave my student's tits alone, young man!' but saw Tina giving Gail these super-funny looks whenever Tory's eyes would travel south. Gail had her hand over her mouth and was shaking...” Casey shook his head some more, face going pink-but still smiling. “I mean, okay, he wasn't getting grabby or actually being rude or disgusting about it. And he IS only eleven. But it's like... he knows he can get away with shit because he's 'just a kid'.”
“This is awesome...”
“Sure it is, to YOU.”
“Oh, give me a break, you're fuckin' enjoying this storytelling,” Zeke said; Casey's face went even redder, making Zeke grin and twirl his hand around. “Proceed.”
“Wonder where he gets this...” Casey said, giving Zeke a light punch to the shoulder as he passed by on his way to the other cupboard to finish the job. “SO. He played musical chairs for the next three classes, always choosing the spots where his 'preferences' are seated. From what I've gleaned in this sudden social-experiment thrown at me from outta NO-where, he's acquired a taste for olive-skinned, tight-bodied beauties who wear purple, white and-or pink sundresses. I'm planning on opening classes tomorrow with a heartfelt apology to all the poor young women who had to put up with the leer-fest.”
“Their safe-haven, having a gay professor in their class schedule, destroyed...” Zeke remarked, chuckling like a loon.
“It wasn't... something from a Porky's script. Still. By the time lunch showed-up, I was ready to cancel my last two classes. I figured taking lunch outside for some fresh air would do us some good.” Casey's expression darkened, lips going tight a moment before going on to say, “We would've been safer, eating in the caf. Much, much safer. Instead, I get us some burgers, fries, brownies and sodas and lead our big horny hormone outside to a scene MTV would've loved to film for a 'Spring Break' special.”
“Oh FUCK!” Zeke hooted and began clapping, almost drowning out Casey's continuing the story.
“It was warm, yes, but why girls think 'Bikini time!' the second the mercury creeps past seventy-five, the fuck!” Casey laced his fingers tight over his head, groaning and laughing at the same time. “The other professors, the supposed fine professionals supplying today's youth with education? Fuck that, they sneak cock-grabs under their desks in a desperate attempt to 'tame the beast' this time of year. And there I am, leading Torrin around to find a shady spot where you're not tasting suntan lotion while you EAT... Zeke. You DID notice the lunch he had all over him, right?”
“Hah, no??”
“Thank god we didn't go with the beige shirt my mom gave him. But the khakis are gonna need some stain-stick action.”
“Along with his sheets tonight...”
Casey grimaced. “Seriously... globs of ketchup and mustard kept dropping on his clothes, shoes, the grass, and like he cares. But that's not even the worst part... the worst came when he sees these girls in dresses, tube tops and swimwear taking pics of each other. His jaw drops and he turns to me... 'Dad, I gotta take pictures for my report!'”
“Oh. Oh,” Zeke uttered. Casey nodded slowly.
“Before he can grab my iPhone from my bag and rush off to the nearest episode of 'Girls Gone Wild', I tell him that no pics are taken without consent. He nods, the stupidest fucking smile I have ever seen on his face...” Casey sat in the chair across from Zeke's and he let out a big, deep sigh. “...Thankfully, he probably knew I'd caught on to his game and he chose spots at the fountain, statues and some nice guys playing hacky-sack. They even let him join 'em for a couple rounds. But the majority? Yea, it's all curvy-cuties, with him smack-dab in the middle. He even got ONE girl, another Beyonce-lookalike to sit next to him with her arm across his shoulders... while he gives the cam a thumbs-up.”
It was all-out clapping now; how could Zeke not be proud of his son's 'Go Get 'Em!' attitude? As long as he didn't get himself slapped in the face and his wrists in security-guard cuffs, what was the issue? “All the single ladies, all the single ladies...” Zeke trilled in a high-pitched voice. Apparently, Casey couldn't help from snorting and chortling at that.
“Jesus, Zeke. Seriously. Every female student at my school deserves a Purple Heart for this shit,” Casey said past his chuckle fit. “I'm not a praying man, but SOME-one was watching out for me when I ran into Sharon, who was all-too-happy to take him off my hands and show Tory around her job at the library and other spots around campus while I got through the rest of the day. For the record, Sharon's Polish, wears lots of beige and prefers pastry over a supermodel's diet.”
“Eh, that kid'll expand his horizons, I'm sure,” Zeke said. He lit a cigarette and let out his first drag slowly. “Wow. I guess girls aren't 'icky' anymore.”
“The ones at Norwich Elementary are. On the way home, I saw him counting out fingers; I asked him what he was doing, and he said, 'I only have seven years before I go to college! Or maybe I can skip a grade if I try hard enough!'”
More laughter ensued, Casey joining right along. After recovering (as best he could, anyway) Zeke held his hand out. “Okay, hand over your iCrap, I gotta see these pics.”
“'K.” Casey reached into his pockets, felt around then got up to get his bag from the counter. Zeke watched on as the man rifled around in it, muttering things under his breath. He stopped suddenly and gasped. “Aw crap, Tory still has it!”
~*~
“Sorry, Dad... I must've forgot!” Torrin said into the phone... his father's phone. He gave Mike, who was biting his knuckle and shaking a look that said, 'Shut up!' “I didn't know I had it 'til you called.”
“Ugh, well-whatever, it's not a big deal. Just shut it off until I get it back, I'm too tired to drive over to Mike's to get it. Okay? And if you forget and it rings, do NOT pick it up,” Casey instructed.
“Sure. Sorry, 'didn't mean it,” Torrin said-or lied, outright. Who was he hurting? No one at all. After getting a fatherly and tired, Okay, be good, love you, home by eight-thirty, Torrin said, “Love you too,” and hung up.
“Dude, you're such a liar!” Mike exploded once it was safe.
“I KINDA forgot... kinda,” Torrin replied as he tapped the screen to return to the 'Pictures' folder.
Mike groaned and sank further into his beanbag chair. “How do YOU get to hang out with hot college babes while I had to spend the whole damned day with my MOM at her stupid hair salon? All I got to see was a bunch of really old ladies who kept calling me 'sweetie-pie' and stuff. That's so friggin' unfair.”
“Hey, man, it's not my fault. Anyway, they gave you a few bucks when they'd tip your mom.”
“Fine, wanna trade next time??”
“Hells no.” A smile spread over Torrin's face as he held the phone up to show Mike his favorite shot. “Now this chick was fiiiine.”
“Dang, she looks just like Beyonce!”
“I know, right?”
~*~